" Kneeling, he looked fair into the black eyes--deep,
mysterious as the wild itself. "You think this, and still you don't
grovel, don't make a sound. You're brave, birdie, braver than most men."
He paused, and one by one his hands loosened their grip. "I'm proud of
you; so proud that I'm going to say good-bye." He straightened to his
full height. Unconsciously his arms folded across his chest. "Go,
birdie; you're free."
A moment longer there was inaction. Unbelieving, still a captive, the
great bird stood there motionless as before; then of a sudden it
understood; it was free. By some chance, some Providence, this great
animal, its captor, had lost the mastery, and it was free.
Simultaneously with the knowledge the pent-up energy of the last minutes
went active, fairly explosive. With a mighty rush it was away; feet and
wings beating the earth, the air. Swifter and swifter it went, gaining
momentum with each second. It barely touched the frost-brown prairie; it
cleared it entirely, it rose, rose, with mighty sweeps of mighty wings.
Oh, it was free! free! free! "Honk! honk!" Free! free! "Honk! honk!
honk!"
Like a statue, silent again as death, the man watched as the dark spot
on the horizon grew dimmer and dimmer until it faded at last into the
all-surrounding brown.
CHAPTER X
THE CURSE OF THE CONQUERED
It was late, very late on the prairie, when How Landor returned that
evening.
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